


false spirea

by dokkal



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, No Petrification Event, no thoughts just tsukasen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokkal/pseuds/dokkal
Summary: Senku just wanted a goddamn kiss.
Relationships: Ishigami Senkuu/Shishiou Tsukasa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	false spirea

**Author's Note:**

> welp just trying to ease back into writing after a long, long mental BLOCK... ahaha.. hello

Senku passes the short period of time looking at the night sky, seated on a narrow, circular bike rack, in the cold. He shoulders an unkempt low ponytail that’s been sheltered by the deep hood of his black coat. He was still flushed from Tsukasa’s performance just twenty minutes ago, having left the backstage after a brief minute to greet Tsukasa before leaving, so all the tense feelings and excitement he felt just by watching him haven’t fully left his system.

The bitter wind doesn’t seem to weaken, but rather, it blew with a sharper bite by the minute. The hallows of his cheeks were numb from the cold, yet his ears do the opposite, it reddens with anticipation, with a heat that sears at the backs of his ears. He was exhaling strongly on purpose, observing how each of his new breaths takes a visible mess of a form against the night background in front of him and yellow lights from the shops behind him.

“Sorry, the rescheduling took longer than I expected,” Tsukasa’s sudden voice entering Senku’s ears pricks him with surprise. He sounded tired, unsurprisingly. Senku sinks into his scarf in response.

“Didn’t I tell you to take your time?” Senku mumbles through his scarf, giving Tsukasa the stink eye. He bites his lip to make a smile swell down, but no one could see under the scarf. “And what’s with the panting, you weren’t breaking a sweat in the ring even after facing that strong dude with the chess tattoo, whatever his name is.”

Tsukasa breathes in, his breath went slightly stilted, as if he was taken aback by the question.

“Mm,” Tsukasa agrees. He pulls the hem of his coat sleeve further down to the end of his wrist and does it for both. Tsukasa brushes his head inside his hood to readjust, the fluff of it tickles the sides of his face. “I was concerned you might be waiting too long---You’re smiling, Senku.”

“Am not,” Senku lounges forward, stepping off the round bike rack. “You’re getting tired from the wrong reasons, idiot.” He softly punches Tsukasa’s arms. Tsukasa takes his fist in his hands, unfolding them so he could hold it, and maybe swing it like how it was when they were little.

They start walking back to the dorm, the late night traffic briefly cuts their silence, though Senku was keener on talking about the newest Doraemon merchandise.

“It comes with these custom textures all around the galaxy lunchbox,” Senku pushes his phone against Tsukasa’s face too enthusiastically, even the scarf can’t hide his eye smile. Tsukasa had to bring his hand down to properly look at the sampled photo.

“Ah, are those puffy stickers? It never crossed my mind that you’d be interested in having a personalized lunchbox.”

“I’m not but who cares,” Senku goes back to fiddling with the options. “It’s Doraemon.”

“Then are you going to use it? From what I can tell, your shelf isn’t going to make room by itself for another Doraemon merchandise, you know?”

Senku slows his walking pace to a halt, blinking, taking in what was said. Senku wasn’t surprised, but more or less brooding that Tsukasa articulated the concern that was being shoved in the back of Senku’s mind all the way to the front. It happens often. “Well, are you going to use it?”

Senku looks at him dead in the eye, then shifts focus back to his phone.

“No,” Senku says, firmly. He then continues as if the conversation wasn’t done already. “But you can use it.” The bold level of certainty Senku carries in his words that Tsukasa will actually use it was baffling.

“What, no. Senku, you can’t just buy something just to satisfy your consumer high and then dump it on me—” Tsukasa watches the eager eyes of his marveling at his phone screen, unabashed and willing. He concedes. “Well, you can, but I’m advising you don’t.”

It was always baseless excuses to retort whatever Senku wanted to do at the moment, for he doesn’t like to dwell on materialistic things longer than needed, it takes up energy, and he would prefer to expend that towards write ups for his lab reports. In short, Senku has a bad habit of following whatever merchandise is released in the Doraemon media franchise, especially now that he’s away from home.

“Then consider this an early birthday present,” Senku licks his lips in anticipation. They even stopped at a corner to prepare, missing the light, and the traffic light turns green for the opposite sides. Tsukasa almost spits when the purchase button greys out. Senku scowls, and endures the moments of muffled laughter thrown at him.

“It seems like you were too late this time, all sold out.”

“Of course I can see that,” Senku huffs, stuffing his phone back into his pant pocket. Senku doesn’t say it, but his transition to another topic doesn’t invite any more talk about it, though deep down he’s more or less disappointed.

“Is tomorrow your last final?”

“Ahh. Yeah, you’ll get to see my final presentation of the semester in full glory twelve hours from now,” Senku throws up his grabby fingers at the thought of tomorrow, resembling more of a scheming villain than a sleep deprived student trying to pass his last final.

“Anything I can do to help calm one’s mind?” Tsukasa says, getting straight to the point as usual.

“Why would I be nervous?” Senku asks. “If there are people trying to one-up me with stupid questions that’s a piece of cake.”

Tsukasa responds with an affirming noise, though there was some uncertainty lingering in his parted lips. Their hands rose and fall back as they walk, knuckles that seem to be touching each other, hands that were not close to interlocking yet it felt like it was happening, but it was more of phantom-like feeling caressing their own perception of each other’s touch, after all, they have walked beside each other in such a way for a long time. The essence of having a friend, a lover by their sides.

“But if you are  _ offering _ \---” Senku crosses his arms, his voice growing loud and clear, the loving, cynical voice that he uses when dealing with crazy chemicals rises from the shadows, “I am very, very open to what you can offer me to better prepare for tomorrow.”

Senku continues to laud Tsukasa with dry compliments, which was the usual. But he continues to denote something that only Tsukasa can offer, but that doesn’t come easily.

“Mm. How about a massage chair?” Senku’s stomach drops. Tsukasa whips out his phone, entering a web browser already displaying a large cushioned chair.

“Eh?”

“My manager recommended me this,” Tsukasa says without a hint of deceit.

“I’ll take it apart and assemble a car with it,” Senku deadpans. “It’s not within your ethical means to call for express shipping anyways. Anything else you can offer me?” Senku eggs him on, with rising expectations of the next suggestion.

Tsukasa produces a fond chuckle, slipping his phone back into his coat pocket, with the screen still on. “True. Also, the thing might break your bones before starting to loosen your body. Mm. I’m also concerned about your bones.” He jokes, gently tugging Senku aside from the incoming bicycler that was hard to see in that one corner from their dorm building.

“You’re concerned about the wrong thing, idiot.”

“Then what is it that you want?” Tsukasa says, coyly. Senku groans, frustrated that his cheeks were red through and through, and not just the winter cold getting to his frail body. Senku pulls down his scarf simply to smack the dude with it. Tsukasa makes it difficult, dodging his flimsy throws with an innocent look adorned on his beautiful profile.

“You’re in no position to talk after telling me how I spend my money on useless shit and then joke about getting me a  _ massage chair _ ,” He growls. Tsukasa remains cheeky with that small grin of his.

“Then, what is it that you want?” Tsukasa asks him one last time.

So when Senku throws his scarf back on, he stiffens, wearing a serious look. Right when Tsukasa habitually leans in a few centimeters to ask what was wrong, Senku sucks in a terribly large breath. He forces their eyes to meet with a messy, uncoordinated forehead bump that catches Tsukasa by surprise.

They were right around the corner of the entrance to their dorm building, but neither of their feet moved an inch towards it. The big camphor trees provide ample space for them for a moment of privacy in public, even if there are lights around.

“For someone who excels at math, you can’t quite angle us right, Senku,” A sniff comes from Tsukasa, then as Senku predicts, an eruption of laughter. A rare sight of his bubbly laughter that lodges Senku’s heart by his throat with a ten billion percent accuracy rate. But it did not come, nor did a laugh happen the last time this happened.

“Shut up.” Senku chuckles into their brief kiss.

They didn’t get far. They carried the buildup of their excitement until they slammed the door to their dorm room, where a side of them that no one knows of, arises.

The moonlight crosses into their dark room through tiny slits from the blinds, illuminating a sliver of Tsukasa’s eyes for a moment. Their coats properly hung on the coat rack near the entrance, their sweaters underneath taken off as soon as they settled in bed, their belts unbuckled and tossed, everything beneath was for another time. Senku’s fingers meander through the soft of Tsukasa’s hair, knowing exactly where to touch. Each of his fingers exerts a light pressure on him, which pulls Tsukasa forward. It ends up with Tsukasa slumping against the crown of his bed, following with Senku kneeling down in between his legs.

Senku takes a seat on him, smirking into another kiss, grinding against him, which elicits a pleasuring, but muffled noise out of them. Senku trails the dark, long eyelashes that tickle him every time they make contact, with his thumb, delicately, as Tsukasa tugs the violet hairband from the ends of Senku’s hair. His hair continues to stay down after loosening it from its bind. Senku shifts his hands closer to Tsukasa’s ears, eventually covering them. Tsukasa presses his palms on Senku's back, bringing them even closer than before. They sometimes get the frontal locks of Senku’s hair interrupting them, but it wasn’t a bother. They more often than not, collapse onto the soft mattress, where Senku nuzzles into Tsukasa's neck without care, many times it's the other way around (but it depends) as they bathe in each other's warmth under the safety of their blanket.

“Do I really gotta do this every time?” Senku asks later. Both of them were slightly out of breath, their red lips visibly sore, they were currently lying next to each other in the darkest times of the night. There was no bite in his question, but it was a question that held a string of familiarity which screams they have done this before, many times.

“Sorry, I’m a bit shy. Being the one to ask first."

Senku whispers. “We’ll continue doing this even after you’re no longer shy.”

Tsukasa cracks open a smile, pressing Senku's hands with his own.

“Mm. I have no complaints.”

**Author's Note:**

> I did not think I was able to depict Senku's and Tsukasa's character as much as I had liked. How Do You Write Intimate Scenes. Everything goes well and dandy inside my stupid little head! Sadly, I have my own limits, but I know I did my best this time around. Hope this was somewhat enjoyable!


End file.
